


Land Of Midnight

by soncnica



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Not Related, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Best Friends, Blood and Gore, Creature Fic, Death, Flying Panther Jensen, Friendship, Gen, Happy Ending, Human Jared, Hurt/Comfort, Magic, Main Character Killing Main Character, Not Really Character Death, Panther Jensen, Sad with a Happy Ending, Warrior Jared
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 11:05:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1263988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soncnica/pseuds/soncnica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These days had to end, because after midnight new days would begin. And killing these days was Jared's destiny, killing these creatures was his fate and killing the last creature would burn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Land Of Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I own nothing and I'm sorry for any grammar/spelling mistakes you might find.

The forest was stretching before his eyes, the trees as tall as the giants living on the northern shores, their branches thick and lush, green, brown, yellow and red leaves rolling in the wind that was coming in long bursts from the East. The sound of crackling tree trunks hurt his ears … dying trees, dying forest, dying bushes. Death was slowly sweeping through the land taking with it everything of beauty, everything that was life.

There were no dark holes between the tree tops, they stood side by side so closely, like lovers vowed never to separate … never until death. Never until this very day. There was no empty space for miles and miles, nothing that would make his eyes steady on a spot; it was all a valley of moving colors and sparkles in the hot sun.

It was beautiful in its last breaths.

-:-

It was his favorite place to come to, even with the beautiful northern beaches, the marvelous southern deserts, shiny eastern horizons at his disposal, this … right here, right in the heart of the land was where he wanted to breathe in his last breath.

It was a hill, with a flat top and it was the only thing that broke the miles of miles upon miles of the forest. It was a fairytale told by mothers to small children that one of the giants of the North threw the rock there, to mark the center of the Earth. And to Jared, it really did look like the center of the Earth. He loved climbing up on it, loved to spend days and days on the top, days and days training with his sword and his bow, his dagger and his hands … and then in the evenings he'd go to the western side and watch the sunsets.

No one ever bothered him. No one ever came to him, no one but Jensen.

-:-

His toes were hanging over the edge of a cliff; there was the forest below him, and the flatness of the hill stretching behind him. This was the place he had spent years watching sunsets, years talking to Jensen, years enjoying freedom and years worrying about this very day. He was powerless to stop the day coming, couldn't do anything about it, just … let it happen and do his very best. Do what he was trained to do, do what was meant for him to do.

There were little pebbles dripping from the sharp edge, falling all the way down to land on the trees. All the way down to a land that would disappear in a couple of centuries. A land that would become dark and dead by fire and greed. All ashes and nothing.

He had seen it. In his dreams; had seen how machines would break down everything, how fire would consume everything, how humans would destroy all that is kind and pretty and amazing. He had seen how he'd destroy _these_ days and bring upon new days. He had seen it happen and he had cried – when he had still been a child – and he had yelled and he had said to Jensen: "I don't want to do it!" and how Jensen had said: "You can't stop time. And this is what you are meant to do."

And now, now when the day had finally come, Jensen's words were burning him. Burning so badly. Deep in his chest, deep in his soul.

_You can't stop time. And this is what you are meant to do._

-:-

He sighed and closed his eyes. He couldn't watch anymore, couldn't see all this beauty and imagine it all gone when the new sun would rise tomorrow. He spread his arms wide; turned his left palm down, to float on the wind, but his right one was stuck to the handle of his long sword by blood and sweat and _I'm sorry_.

He snapped his eyes open; he needed to see everything just one more time. Just one more time, just to really seal it into his mind, before … before it would all be gone.

His gaze went wide and far, all the way to the North that was already being flooded by the sea, all the way to the South where the scorching hot desert sand was already starting to cover most of the land, all the way to the East where in time a new sun would rise. He didn't want to look back, at the West that was already consumed by darkness.

He gripped his sword tighter, listening as cold, dark blood dripped to the ground.

 _Drip, drip, drip, drip, drip_... his sword would never be dry iron ever again, it would get lost and no one would ever find it. It would never be used again, never clean and never sharp again. It would be forgotten just like everything else about _these_ days.

He wanted to weep, wanted to feel something more than _I'm sorry_ and the overwhelming burn inside of him but he had wept over this enough when he was just a child. He wasn't like that anymore. The smell of blood and death hardened him, sucked away all tears that he had ever wanted to shed and Jensen's words were as much comfort as not. He was raised as a warrior, a creature of war. A human.

So he shouted; a roar coming deep from his belly, up his throat, shaking all his tired, burned out muscles and bones.

He knew he would be heard over the sound of the world dying when he stepped over the edge into the air.

-:-

His forearms were covered with silver bracelets; from wrists to elbows, the hard cuffs – because that's what they felt like to him – enveloped his forearms, squiggly letters and lines on them declaring to everyone who he was – the killer of creatures, the ender of days. There was no escaping that, because the bracelets were grown into his skin, to get them off, he'd had to rip open his skin and flesh. Would probably have to cut off his hands. But in a certain way it was alright, because they provided protection when he was gripped tight by claws so sharp they could cut his arms in half as simple as a knife through milk.

The whoosh of air that hit him as he was raised up into the sky with jerky movements of wings made him close his eyes. In sadness. In _I'm sorry_.

The claws had a steady grip on the bracelets; embracing his whole forearms ... he was safe. He wouldn't fall.

He didn't release his sword, just wrapped his fingers tighter around the handle and tried to imagine light, instead of the darkness he knew was following him like a shadow.

He opened his eyes and saw how the East was already burning red; he didn't have a lot of time ... the new sun was already on its way while the old sun was being swallowed by the dark of the West.

A roar, not his own, made him shudder, all of his bones rattled in his body and his heart skipped a beat ... he had heard that roar a million times before, but it had never been this sad, this angry, this painful.

It had never been this dark.

-:-

The trees were flowing beneath him, like a river of green, stumbling over masses of rock that were scattered all over the valley.

The air was warm, still smelling of _these_ days ... still smelling so fresh, so clean, so unharmed.

It burned in his lungs when he breathed. It burned so bad; his cheeks, his eyes, his heart, his whole body. And he was tired. Exhausted. Covered in blood, dust, dirt and death from head to toes.

He reeked of the new days and he just wanted to end this now. It had to end now. He felt safe enough - captured in those claws and being carried through the sky by those wings - to admit that it had to end now. _Thes_ e days had to end.

-:-

He put his feet down to the ground when it came rushing up at him. He didn't stumble or loose his footing, he was too used to this. He knew how to lock his knees and spread his legs, knew how to be steady and solid.

He pushed the tip of his sword into the soft soil of the field that was once all sunflowers; followers of the sun, so yellow it made his eyes sting from the brightness.

He turned around and made his heart slow down as he whispered: "Jensen."

The creature folded its huge, long oily black wings behind its back and shook its panther like body, all lean and glossy black, muscles rippling under the coat of fur.

It went down on all four, gracefully as a cat, even if was big, bigger than Jared even while standing on all four.

"Jensen."

He whispered again when the panther walked closer, huge paws raising dry earth from the ground.

The green eyes, almost fluorescent, shone from the blackness of its head, and he was sucked into them. They were magical; they consumed souls to heal or to kill. He wasn't sure what Jensen was trying to do right now, but from the way its whiskers twitched into a smirk and its ears flicked to attention, he was pretty sure it wasn't kill.

"Jensen..."

He said again, his tired, tired brain stuck on that word. He didn't move his eyes from Jensen's, didn't waver, wasn't afraid. This was his friend; this was the creature that stood by his side in the brightest and darkest moments of his life.

But it burned the greenness of Jensen's eyes, burned so sweetly. Like it always had.

One big, massive paw came up from the ground and went slowly towards his chest, but when it collided with his breast bone, it was the soft touch of a human's hand he felt. Fingers grazing his left nipple, on their way up to grasp the medallion hanging around his neck.

"Jensen."

He said again, couldn't do anything else, because now that Jensen's jaguar body wasn't blocking his view, he could see the darkness spreading from the West, could see it coming closer and closer, devouring everything on its way. The clouds, the sky, the trees and waters, the land.

It would all go pitch black for a while, or so it had been said, before the new dawn would bring new days.

The fingers splayed over his heart were warm, comfortable, known and knowing.

"Does it burn? The loss?" he tapped the fingers, "In here?"

Jensen's voice was deep, gruff and it stumbled over letters and sounds, unused of speaking after being stuck in his animal form for so long.

Jared swallowed: "Yes, it burns a lot."

Jensen nodded and didn't say anything else, just lowered his gaze, locked it with his fingers that he dragged into a fist around the medallion.

"Alright." He let go of the medallion and Jared felt empty. Empty and hollow and already half dead, because that medallion had been given to him by Jensen with the words: the sun and the moon had always been lovers, even if they can never see each other.

The memory burned another hole into his soul.

-:-

"I killed them all." he rasped, the air loosing its smoothness when it went down to his lungs. He had to say it, had to … make it real, because it was still not real to him, not real and too real and the words hurt so damn much, but it was the truth. And he wanted Jensen to say something, to make it alright, to make it better, to understand like he understood all those times before when they were talking up on that hill, when they were waiting for this very day.

The blood ran down the once shiny sword, a never ending stream of it, because that was how it was supposed to be. Blood of every creature getting soaked up by the soil.

Blood back to dust.

"Why?"

The question confused him. Jensen knew why… so why ask?

"You know why."

Jensen's eyes went dark, dark green that he had never seen before. It was frightening, a color as dark as a storm.

"The prophecy." it came out with spit through Jensen's tight lips.

Jared lowered his head, his dirty hair falling into his eyes: "Your time has passed," he hesitated, didn't know what to call Jensen, but decided to be official, even if he didn't want to be, "King of the flying panthers, you know that. Don't ... don't make this harder than it has to be, King."

"Jensen."

He smiled when he looked back up into his friend's eyes: "Jensen."

"Are you going to kill me now," a slight hesitation, "killer of creatures?" his eyes were on the sword, where the blood of his brothers and sisters lay. Where the blood of everyone lay.

"Jared."

"Jared."

The darkness was getting closer, thunder could be heard, lightning seen. He needed to finish this. Soon.

"I'm sorry."

His heart beat so hard in his chest, he was afraid it would push right through him. He took a deep breath and his eyes watered slightly by how dirty and wrong the air felt. How wrong the smile Jensen wore felt. How wrong those sparks of life in Jensen's eyes felt. How life just shouldn't still be here.

"I know you are, my friend. I know you are."

Jensen was a couple of years older than him, but this had always been meant to happen this way. They were the last ones standing on this land when midnight approached. The very last ones of _these_ days. The new days would bring with them new things and new creatures. New humans.

"It's time to make room for new things to come. The new times are not meant for the likes of you nor me, Jensen, you said so yourself."

"I did. I know. I'm… ready. I am."

Jared stood his ground when Jensen came even closer to him, so close their toes were touching and their breaths mingled in the small open space between their chests.

"I know, King ... Jensen. I know you are."

He did know that, but still… there was a difference between knowing and doing; between knowing for years and years that you would die one day soon, and actually baring your neck for the sword. He forgave his friend the hesitation, the fear.

"I'll make it fast, I… I promise." he whispered before Jensen leaned on him, sweaty forehead coming to rest on his dirty and blood covered collarbone, spikes of hair tickling under his chin. Jensen was a bit smaller than him, but when he was in his animal form, he was bigger than even some of the giants of the North.

What Jensen did was a surprise … in all the years they knew each other, Jensen had never touched him in his human form. It was unpleasant, felt wrong in so many ways … Jensen's pure skin was touching the blood of his sisters and brothers; it was touching the spot where everything burned so bad, where he wasn't used to be touched unless it was by a blade or a whip. It felt wrong and he wanted Jensen to back away, but when his friend whispered: "I know you will, my friend." and the hot breath hit his skin, soothed the burn and made something clench in his stomach that wasn't fear or death or pain … he couldn't ask Jensen to move away. He couldn't do it.

"I will guide you into the night. As I promised, King. Jensen." He said to the darkness creeping closer behind Jensen's back.

"I trust you."

The words made his fingers let go of the sword, it was so hard to do it, so hard it made his vision blur and he couldn't breathe for a second, but when he heard the muffled thud of the sword hitting the ground, it was alright. He was okay with the burn now. He was okay with doing this. Jensen trusted him. And he promised.

"As I promised, Jensen." he whispered and wanted to lay his hand on Jensen's shoulder, but the only contact they had was forehead to collarbone. Everything else was memories between them; Jensen correcting his stance while practicing with his sword, Jensen correcting his arm while practicing with his bow, Jensen throwing him to the ground when teaching him to fight dirty, Jensen grabbing him with claws when they flew, Jensen talking about everything and nothing at all, Jensen teaching him how to swim, Jensen teaching him how to tie his shirt and shoes correctly, Jensen pushing those bracelets into his skin, Jensen healing people and Jensen laughing.

Those were the memories that he would make sure they both take with them to their death.

-:-

"I wish..." he started, but Jensen interrupted him with: "There will be no more wishes in this new world, no more magic. Nothing. It will be empty."

"The new world won't deserve it, Jensen. I've seen it."

"Yes, you told me."

He had. Every time he woke up screaming and crying and begging Jensen to make it stop … he told his friend what he saw in his dreams … he told him everything.

-:-

He could taste death in the back of his throat, the land would be dark soon, midnight would come and feast and then dawn would bring new life. Life, Jensen and he weren't allowed to be in.

"Jensen..." he said into his friend's hair and almost smiled when Jensen shook his head, hair tickling again.

He pushed the dagger he kept clean and sharp just for this occasion, just for his friend, into Jensen's chest, through skin and flesh, muscles and probably bone piercing Jensen's heart.

The sound was sickening even after all those creatures he had killed, even after hearing that sound so many times … the squelch of the blade penetrating something so pure, so magical … it made him sick and he ignored the tear spilling down his cheek. Tears had no business being here. They were pure, too pure to see this.

Jensen gasped and groaned, panting for breath.

"Jensen…"

He felt Jensen's hands grip his sides, fingers settling at his hips, probably completely unconsciously, just something to hold himself up with, and he let him. The touch felt wrong again, but so right at the same time. This was what he could do for his friend; just hold him while he died. Offer him something to hold on to, while passing into the darkness.

And then the weight of his friend became too much, the swaying motion too strong and gravity brought them both down to their knees.

"I'm sorry, so sorry. You're alright."

He held Jensen in his arms, one hand cradling his head, fingers in sweaty hair, the other pulling out the dagger and throwing it to the ground.

He didn't care where it landed ... the blood would get into the soil eventually.

"J- jared..."

The blood was sticky and hot on his chest, blood that was bubbling out of the wound and Jensen's mouth, but he would not allow for his friend to die alone, lying on the cold ground. He would not allow the last creature of _these_ days, this world to dye alone. Everyone he had killed he had stayed there, with them, in their last breathing moments, making sure they went into darkness with someone there. Not alone.

"It's alright Jensen, just don't fight it."

Jensen didn't.

-:-

He was on the cliff again, looking down at nothing. Looking down at darkness. Looking at what once was home to him, home for so much magic and beautiful, proud creatures. Looking down at how the dark had covered the blood, had eaten away the colors and smells of life. There were gray swirls moving around in the dark, gray and silver streaks of light.

This was a world dying and another one being born.

This time when he spread his arms and jumped off the cliff, he knew there would be no one to catch him.

But he wasn't afraid.

-:-

2005

So they wanted him to be Dean and this Jared Pada… Padasomething to be Sam. He needed to google this guy.

**The End**


End file.
